Raw milk, humanity and three wishes gone wrong
by Tichfield
Summary: After a genie grants her three wishes, Sookie finds herself stuck in a raw milk conspiracy, in a world where supernaturals don't exist.  Also, Eric ends up as the only human owner of a vampire bar.  To find out how, you'll have to read the story.
1. Chapter 1

Raw milk, humanity and three wishes gone wrong

by Tichfield

For E

Disclaimer: Nearly all the characters and situations below belong to Charlaine Harris and HBO. They are not mine.

Note: I try to stay mostly true to the TV show, but bring in elements from the books when they are useful to the plot. I apologize in advance for any confusion this may cause. Also, there's a new character, but she'll only feature prominently in the first chapter or two - honest. She's mostly a plot device.

Chapter 1: Be careful what you wish for

So, Gran, you're probably wondering how Eric ended up being the only human in the world who runs a vampire bar. Or just how he ended up being human. It's complicated. See, it began when Bubba decided that he would like a bite of dog. Who knows why, maybe he needed a change from all the cats he usually sucks dry.

Do you remember Marianne? She was a maenad who blew through town not that long ago. A maenad's a servant of some dead god of wine; she just refused to believe that her master was gone, and did everything she could to bring him back. And when I say everything? I mean orgies. Lots and lots of orgies, right here in Bon Temps, and oh my gosh I wish I could unsee some of the things I saw - but no, they will forever burn in my brain with a strength matched only by the memories of that time I caught you watching a pay per view channel when I came home late.

Sorry for bringin' that up. All I meant to say was that this Marianne wasn't all right in the head, you know? She was obsessed with bringing back her leader. She'd tried sex parties and drinking binges, and she finally decided human sacrifice was what she really needed. Well, shifter sacrifice. Sam, in particular. I don't know why, exactly, but she thought he'd be the perfect offering and made all ready to cook him on this horrible meat statue they'd put up in front of our house.

Did I forget to mention that? She totally trashed our house. I'm STILL finding wine bottles in places you couldn't imagine. I mean, who takes a wine bottle to the bathroom? And behind the washing machine? Really?

Anyway, Sam Merlotte didn't take kindly to bein' god bait. He shifted into a white bull and gored her. Wasn't too hard, from what I hear, since she thought the bull was the master she'd been waitin' for, come down after finally hearing her callin'. Didja ever see a goring, Gran? I'll bet you did, back in the farm days. It's real bloody. Marianne died in the woods, in a little clearing. If you go there now you'll see a patch of grass all withered and dead where her black blood hit the soil. Nothin' will grow there. Nothin' natural, anyway, and that leads us back to Bubba.

There's good reason that Sam killed Marianne where he did; it's right on the path of his daily run. Sometimes it's a nightly run, and that's the problem. He shifts into a collie for his joggin'. Now, most animals know to leave him alone. He has a few scratches from a feisty raccoon, and that was about it until a few weeks ago, when all of a sudden Bubba decided on a change of diet. Bubba's a vampire, but a bit of a strange one. Likes the taste of cat blood better than True Blood or human, and he's not all there in the head department. So sad for someone who... I'm wanderin'. That's neither here nor there, an' not my story to tell. The point is, the moment that Bubba decided he fancied a cup of dog blood? Sam became a target. He was ambushed over by the river and managed to run away with nothin' worse than fang marks near his neck and a tear in his side. He ran home along the path he knew, and on the way some of his blood spilled onto Marianne's patch of ground.

What happened next is kinda weird. I got a witch to explain it all to me, and even then I'm not sure I get it. The maenad had been knockin' and knockin' and knockin' on the door of mythology, hopin' her god would come out. Then she gets killed, and her blood stays in the ground. But see, she wasn't just slaughtered; as she died she actually thought she was bein' a holy sacrifice. The way her part of mythology works, if she believed it to be, well, that's halfway to its actually bein' true. So we already have a patch of ground that's just charged with summoning magic. That's what it is. She was callin' and callin' until she fell over. SOMETHIN' was bound to come, to answer, if only to tell her to be quiet. Then to that you add the supernatural blood of the shifter who killed her - an' Sam had also been prepared as a sacrifice. Two more-than-human offerings, the blood of the murdered an' the murderer... It was a cosmic callin' card, beggin' for someone to come and avenge her. Just like going past the speed limit near that billboard on the city gates will summon a police car, our blood magic called in our very own Ifrita. That's genie, in English.

Not that we knew what she was at first, of course...

When she first arrived, she made her way out of the forest and onto the interstate. There'd been a storm earlier that night, so it wasn't long before she came across a fallen tree blocking the highway. Jason's road crew was on it, but it was slow work.

That's who told me all this part of the story, Gran. Our Jason. The Ifrita took a likin' to him - they're still together - but if I don't tell this in order I'll never get it right. An' that comes later. Much later.

So anyway, the road crew see this woman comin' toward them. She looks Greek, is about five foot nine, has dreadlocks and is dressed in a black halter-top, black baggy pants an' black slippers. Her right hand is covered in lacy black tattoos.

"I'd like a ride into town," she says.

"So would we, but we've gotta get this tree out of the way first," says Jason.

"How long will that take?"

"Oh, a few hours. You're probably better off walkin'." The woman looked unimpressed. "I could call a taxi, if you like, Miss..."

"Loiros. Keis Loiros. You say that if the tree is removed, you can give me a ride?"

"Yeah, sure, no problem. But it'll take a lot of time..."

"What brought the tree down over the road?"

"Lightnin', I think," said Jason.

"Perfect."

That's when things got a little weird. Keis nodded, walked to the tree and put her right hand on it.

"Lord of Three Thunders, hear my call," she said. "Poetic justice begs to be done. Lightning blocked this road, and in your name lightning will clear it. Now."

The moment she said that, noises started up above them, in the clouds. It was like they were havin' indigestion. Keis stepped back, and as soon as she did a bolt of lightning struck the tree, shattering it into splinters and small pieces of wood. Miraculously, no one was hit by the flyin' tree bits. Or maybe she just planned it that way; you never know with her type of person.

Speakin' of which, most of Jason's road crew were scared stiff when they saw this, not that they'd admit it now. They all chalk it down to coincidence. The lightnin' just happened to hit when the crazy lady said her prayer. Hoyt an' Jason knew better. They'd seen enough supernatural events so that another one wasn't a big deal to believe in.

Plus, Jason found the genie 'kinda hot'. That's what he told me, Gran. 'Kinda hot.' Did you raise him to be this way? A freaking genie lands in Bon Temps, and all he can think of is her cup size. Which is B, or so he tells me. WHY he tells me, I haven't quite figured out.

What was I sayin'? Oh, right, the tree. With the tree in little bits, it's only fifteen minutes or so before the road is clear.

"Where in town do you want to go?" asks Jason. I just know that he was hopin' she'd say 'your house is fine'. She didn't, though. Instead, she asked:

"Is there a place in this town where people gather?"

"Yeah, sure, Merlotte's. Seems everyone in town stops there one time or another."

"That sounds perfect."

"Listen, that lightnin' thing you did... you're not planning on killin' anyone, are you? 'Cause I'm not cool with that, and I'm not sure I'd like to drive you anywhere if that's what you were after."

"Oh, on the contrary." She smiled at him. "I'm here to make someone's wishes come true."

Jason gulped.

"Lady, I just met you..."

"Oh, not you. At least I don't think it's you. And it probably wouldn't be THOSE kinds of wishes."

"Are we talkin' about the same wishes here? 'Cause I was thinkin of a-"

"I know, I know." Keis's smile faded and she put her hand up. "The inflatable toy is a bit much."

"How'd you know that?" Jason's jaw probably dropped when he thought he'd found someone else with my 'disability'. "Can you read minds?" He covered his forehead with his hands, as if that could shield him from her prying.

"No. I only read desires. You're very calm for a human, did you know that? Most of your kind would be busy trying to deny me, like your friends smoking near the truck, or trying to figure out how they could use me to their advantage. You do neither of these things. It's very... relaxing."

"Yeah, well, I've seen my share of stuff and I know not to mess with what I don't understand."

"You don't even want to know what I am?"

"Not really, no."

"Good. I wasn't about to tell you." She shuffled her feet. "After all I've said, are you still willing to drive me to... Ware Lots, was it?"

"Merlotte's. Yeah, sure, they should still be open. An' you did help. It would've taken us hours to clear that tree the old-fashioned way, so I figure you've earned some free driving time. Hop in."

Once she'd been dropped off, she made it to a table in my section of the bar. It was only by chance that I was on shift that night. Sam had called me in after his injury. Tara wasn't available and he needed a little extra help with the bar. It's hard to pour a Southern Comfort with a gash in your side.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" I asked Keis, handing her a menu. I knew she was a super straight away, since her mind was closed to me. I just didn't know what kind. Her mental shields didn't feel like werewolf, or shifter, or vampire. That's all I knew. If I'd known more, I'd like to think I'd have kicked her out of the restaurant, but really, I'm not sure.

So anyway, she looked at the menu, then at the prices, and then she held her forehead with her right hand.

"I knew I'd forgotten something," she said. "These rush trips..."

"Ma'am?"

"Just a moment, please."

She got up an' walked to the table next to hers. Ol' Gus Gunderson was there, nursin' his usual double order of chicken fingers like they were the last nourishment on this green Earth.

"I hear you want a boulder moved," said Keis.

He looked up at her.

"Where'd you hear that?" The genie shrugged. "It's true, I do. Been wantin' to move it for a while, but I can't get anyone to come on over to my property." Jason says Keis just read Gus's desire to find out about the rock. That may well be, since I picked up stray thoughts about wantin' to clear the boulder just before the genie started talkin' to him.

"I'll do it for ten right now and the rest of what you think the job is worth afterward. You drive me there and back."

"Don't get me wrong, lady, I'm glad for the offer, but what makes you think you can do it? We're talkin' a pretty sizeable boulder here. Girl as scrawny as you couldn't even start to lift it."

"Well..." said Keis, "There are tools, and..."

She walked back to her table, held it with her thumb and right index finger, and proceeded to drag it all the way to Gus's.

"Hey!" I shouted. Guess who had to clean those drag marks? An' I wasn't able to do it perfectly, either. You can STILL see them if you look close.

"You're hired," said Gus, peeling a ten-dollar bill from the wad in his jacket and putting it into her hand. "But if you can't do it, you'll have to give back the tenner or work it off in chores. Deal?"

"Deal," said Keis, pocketing the change. "Ginger ale, please?"

Mr. Gunderson drove Keis to his place the next morning. He must have been pleased with her service, because after that she became known as the person to go to in town for large yard work. That wasn't why she was here, though, of course. As she worked, she was readin' the story of Marianne's rise and fall from people's desires. See, she can reach into you and feel and see anything you've ever wanted. That made her the perfect mythological cop, since she was able to work up testimony on just about anything, just by peering into people's past dreams, needs and wishes.

Her job, the one she was here for, was to avenge Marianne in a manner consistent with poetic justice. That was her schtick, her limitation. Jason says she serves a minor god of karma. I'm not sure if I believe that. I'm not sure I WANT to believe that there's anything like a minor god of karma floating around, because if there is, boy have I got a lot coming my way.

Anyway, she was peeking into peoples' heads and figuring out what happened during the whole time that Marianne was here. Half the town blacked out at her parties and couldn't remember anything afterward - even I couldn't pick anything from their heads about it - but their desires remembered, and Keis was able to piece together the whole thing. It's a little unsettling, isn't it? I saw a bit of what happened at those orgies, and it's nothin' I'd care to be carryin' about in my mind. This genie actually sought it out.

She was at Merlotte's just about every night, so it didn't take her too long to realize that Sam was the one who had killed Marianne. That created a problem. Marianne had wanted to use Sam as a sacrifice, and Sam had turned HER into a sacrifice. Poetic justice. Case closed. Except Keis couldn't go back to where she'd come from unless she punished SOMEONE for the crime, and did so correctly. She couldn't punish Sam, since he'd acted exactly as she'd want him to. Servant of a god of karma, and all that. Instead, she had to find the one person in town whose desires were necessary, if indirectly, for the murder to have taken place.

Apart from Sam, who, if removed from existence, would have allowed Marianne to live?

After a few more weeks of investigation, she found her answer.

Of course it was me, Gran. When is it anyone but me? 


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: words in_ italics_ are thoughts that Sookie has read from people's minds.

Chapter 2: Through the portal

Keis watched me for weeks. The three wishes in her arsenal were like bullets in a cop's gun: the suspect had to go through just the right motions to allow her to fire them. She had to wait for a moment when the wishes I made of my own free will would be poetic payback for what she perceived as my injury to Marianne. Which is ridiculous, really, because I never laid a hand on the woman. Heck, I was mostly away when all that went down. Still, she insists to this day that if I had never existed, none of it would have ever happened.

She found her perfect moment one evenin' when I was working at Merlotte's. It'd been a nice, quiet night, until Eric and Bill burst through the door. They had blood on their hands and faces, and Eric's suit had blood splatters all over it. It's a good thing Andy Bellefleur wasn't in, or they'd have been arrested on suspicion of murder. Rightly, too.

"Sookeh," said Bill.

"Bill!" said I. "What's going on?"

"We need to talk. Outside," said Eric.

"Excuse me, Sam," I said, "I need to go out for a minute. Arlene, would you mind takin' over for me?" Sam shook his head in resignation and Arlene picked up a few extra menus while I headed out the door.

Once in the parking lot, I put my hands on my hips.

"Okay," I said, "what's this all about?"

"We caught a rogue werewolf in your house," said Bill. "He attacked us on sight, and we had to take him down."

Eric nodded. "A messy fight," he admitted, "but with a forgone conclusion. We need your help in burying the body."

"Have you picked up any stray thoughts about recent burials? Any fresh graves we could use to hide the evidence?" asked Bill.

"Can't you just vamp-speed your way through the graveyard and find one yourself?" I asked.

"Cleaning your house of evidence took too much of our time," said Eric.

"There aren't enough hours before dawn," added Bill.

"Well," said I, "there is old man- Wait, what were you two doing in my house?"

"I kept him away from your underwear drawer," said Bill.

"Eric!" I exclaimed.

"If I wanted Sookie's underwear," explained Eric to Bill, calmly, "I would HAVE Sookie's underwear."

"I meant the werewolf," said Bill. "He was poking around your clothing, looking for something with scent on it that he could track."

"And you think my underwear drawer is full of scent? What kind of a woman do you think I am, Bill? The point of clean laundry is to leave clothes with a comfortable, artificial scent, like detergent." I was very disappointed with him. With them both, actually. They took me for granted and seemed to think no imposition was too great as long as they asked for it charmingly. "I don't want anything more to do with this. I don't want to know why you two were snoopin' in my house - TOGETHER - what's up with that?"

"Different sources of information led us to believe you were in danger," said Eric. "I would be displeased to see you harmed."

"Did I not just say I did not want to know? Do I need to rescind your invitations?" I'd learned the word 'rescind' from my Word-a-day calendar. Best present I ever got.

The boys were kind enough to look sheepish. I gave them directions to old man Haggerty's fresh grave and watched them speed off in Eric's red Corvette before heading back in to work.

Keis was there when I got back, sitting in my area. She was looking through the menu, and looked unusually happy.

"Would you like anything to drink?" I asked. It would be a ginger ale. It was always a ginger ale.

"Ginger ale," she said.

"Right away." I fetched it and set it on her table. As I turned away to serve another customer, she stopped me with a hand on my arm.

"Wait a moment. I was just wondering..." she said.

"Yes?" I asked.

"If you had three wishes, what would they be?"

"Oh, that's easy," I snorted. "No more supernaturals. No vampires, werewolves, shifters, witches or ghosts. Well, maybe SOME ghosts," I added, thinking of you, Gran. "Everyone's plain old human."

"And your second wish?"

I thought for a moment. "I guess it would have to be to undo all the violent deaths I've seen. My life has been way too full of murders. For my third wish-"

Keis interrupted me, raising her hand. "May I suggest a third wish?"

"Sure," I said.

"It's to go with your first one. You should also wish that you still know everyone that you know, after that wish is granted. Otherwise your friend Bill and that vampire Eric would be long dead. This wish would allow them to live as humans in the modern world."

"Wow," I said. "You've put a lot of thought into this. Eric, human. Now THERE's something I'd like to see... Yeah, I guess I'd make that my third wish."

"Granted," said Keis, with a smile. She held up her right hand, the one with the black tattoos, and I could swear it glowed with a very faint silver light.

This is where things started to get weird. The air in front of me shimmered, and then turned into something that looked like a full-length mirror. A weird mirror, though, because the only thing it reflected was me. I could still see past to the rest of Merlotte's. I was dressed all wrong - not badly; I was in a designer suit, just WRONG, since I was actually wearing my work clothes. I didn't have time to look closely, because in just a fraction of a second a strong forced pushed me toward my reflection. Toward... and then through.

The mirror vanished. I was still at Merlotte's, but Keis was gone. In her place was Andy Bellefleur, nursing a beer. He looked up at me, startled, with obviously drunken eyes, then shook his head and went back to his drink.

I caught a few stray thoughts behind me.

_With such a small choo-choo, he should drink more._

_I need a drink._

"Waitress!"

I turned.

"Sookeh? Why... why are you dressed that way?"

On a nearby table, Bill was eating chicken fingers and drinking beer. With Marianne. Yes, THAT Marianne.

"What on the green earth do you think you're doin'?" I freaked out, as any good Stackhouse would. It didn't register for a moment that Bill was eating real food; all I could think of was Marianne. "Get that harpy out of here!"

"Ah..." Bill looked very embarrassed. "Sookeh, meet my therapist, Marianne. Marianne, Sookeh. Marianne is helping me with Lorena."

"We hoped to make it a couples session," said Marianne in a deliberately cheerful voice, "but Lorena had a big singing engagement in Shreveport. Still," she patted Bill's hand. "I think we made a lot of progress tonight. It's a pleasure to meet you," said Marianne, extending her hand. "Bill has told me how important you were to him."

"Were? Try ARE, an' I'm not goin' anywhere near that hand," I said. "Bill, what are you doin' with Lorena?"

"I'm married to her, remember?" He raised his left hand, and sure enough, there was a gold band on his fourth finger. My jaw dropped.

"What do you mean, married to her?" I was more than a little shocked.

"You know," said Bill, "the usual. Ring, ceremony... consummation." I was picking up mental images from Bill that I most certainly wanted bleached from my brain.

"You and LORENA? You told me all about how she abused you." Okay, so I was a little upset and talkin' about things I really shouldn't be mentionin' out in public. Marianne looked very uncomfortable when I brought this up. Not that I was terribly interested in her comfort.

"It's not as if you didn't have your chance," said Bill. "You gave back my ring, remember?"

"What ring?" I asked. "No, I do not remember. What are you talkin' about, Bill?"

That's when Sam chimed in.

"Is this some sort of a joke?" he asked, after making his way over from the bar. "Sookie, why are you wearing that uniform?"

"Because I work here?"

"I'll take this moment to leave," said Marianne. "Bill, I'll see you in a week. Make sure you schedule an appointment on a day that Lorena is available." She then left payment for her food and drink (plus a generous tip) and left out the front doors.

"Sookie," said Sam, "You haven't worked here for years. And given how you left I find your current choice of clothing in very poor taste."

Bill munched on his chicken fingers while I watched. That's when it hit me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. Or the Louisiana I knew. Keis had come through with her three wishes, all right, but this was a world that I didn't recognize. I'd have to tread lightly until I knew where I stood.

"How did I leave, exactly?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"What, you mean you've forgotten how you broke my heart?" The way Sam was choking a dishrag made me feel I REALLY didn't want to press him further on this. Given our mutual crushes on each other, I can imagine what might have happened in a world where I didn't have my disability, and he wasn't a shifter. It wouldn't have been easy, because he's still... WAS still my boss, and if you've ever drilled anything into me, Gran, it's that that sort of relationship doesn't work. But it could have gone on. For a time. And then I'd have left. For what?

"No, I suppose I haven't," I answered.

"Excuse me," said Bill, "I really need to be home before Lorena gets back. You know how she is. Do you mind if I just put this on my tab?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Compton. I know you're good for it. Unlike Sookie here. I don't know what SHE's good for."

Sure, I'd just been insulted, but it was a great way to find out what I did in this world.

"I'm good for a lot of things," I said. "Like... my job."

"Oh, right," said Sam. "Affluence's star food critic. What is your review of my chicken wings going to have as a title? Slummin' it in Bon Temps?"

I heard the slam of the doors as Bill left the building.

Affluence was a fancy magazine published in Shreveport. Too fancy for me, I thought, except that apparently now it wasn't.

"It's not like that, Sam..." I said. "You know how much I care about you." He did, too. It was all over his stray thoughts, the ones so strong I couldn't help but pickin' up on. That must make it worse, when you know the person you want to be with likes you back, but won't go with you.

"Tell the truth, Sookie. Why'd you put on your old uniform today?"

I didn't really have a good answer. I broke my usual rule and peeked inside his head to see what he wanted me to say. I couldn't give him the full version, not without lying through my teeth, but a watered-down version wasn't so bad.

"I thought maybe if I dressed like that... it would bring back memories of how things used to be. For both of us. Before things got complicated. I like you, Sam, but as a friend. A good friend. It's not right that we've been avoiding each other all these years."

"It's not like I don't see you often," he said. "But you only ever seem to want to talk to Lafayette." He scrunched his eyebrows. "Where is he, anyway? He should have been back from his smoke break by now." He looked into my eyes. "You don't need to wear a waitress's outfit to get my attention, or my friendship. I'd rather you didn't, actually, it's kind of weird and confusing for the customers."

"So..." I said, "Let's say I'd brought extra clothes. Where would they be?"

"I don't know," said Sam, confused. "In your car?"

"Which would be..." I asked hopefully.

"A Corvette. Listen, Sookie, are you all right?" Yes, a Corvette. Quite a step up from my usual ride, huh?

"Yes. Sam, I think I'll head back home now... I mean, to Gran's home," I added hopefully.

Sam nodded.

"Say hi to her for me."

"Sure thing." I was bubblin' with excitement now that I knew for sure you were alive, Gran. I couldn't wait to head back home and hug you. I just hoped I wouldn't have to ask Sam to help me hotwire my car. It'd be difficult to explain how I'd been able to drive TO Merlotte's without car keys.

The night air was warm as I stepped into the parking lot. There was a red Corvette parked next to Andy Bellefleur's car. I could swear it was Eric's car, but Sam said I - or this world's version of me - drove a Corvette, and it was the only one in the lot. I looked in the window. I was in luck. The keys were still in the ignition. I moved to the driver's side of the car but my way in was blocked by the door to Andy's car, which was open. I pushed, but it wouldn't close. Then I checked why. Two feet were sticking out. Laid across the front seat of the car was Lafayette - and he wasn't breathing.

Author's note: Lafayette's predicament is a tribute to the books. The stray thoughts are Marianne's and Bill's, respectively.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, folks. I was in hospital. HBO and Charlaine Harris own all these characters and situations. None of them are mine.

Chapter 3: You can't go home again

I hadn't brought my cell phone with me (and if I had, it probably wouldn't work), so I ran back into the restaurant.

"Help!" I exclaimed, "Someone call 911! Lafayette's out in the car park and he ain't breathin'!"

Tara and a half dozen patrons reached for their cell phones. Sam vaulted over the bar - that's another Word-a-Day word, 'vaulted' - never thought I'd get to use it in a sentence. But anyway, Sam looked mighty heroic as he leaped over the bar and ran out to help Lafayette. Most of the customers who weren't busy talkin' to a 911 operator followed him. I did, too.

It was dark, and I hadn't said where exactly Lafayette was, but Sam spotted him right away and ran to Andy Bellefleur's car. He might not be a shifter, but this Sam had animal-like senses, speed and strength. The strength part was clear when he started CPR on Lafayette. Everyone formed a quiet half-circle around him. I'm sure we were all wonderin' when the first rib would crack. I was also wonderin' whether Sam wasn't tryin' to bring back the dead. He blocked my view of Lafayette, but our cook's - sorry, his cook's, force of habit - lungs hadn't been movin' for an awful long time and I'd heard on television there'd be brain damage after four minutes without breathin'.

It weren't too long before the folk who'd been on their cell phones came out. Tara was with them, and she ran straight to Andy's car, pushing past bystanders an' gettin' as close to Sam an' his patient as she could without physical contact.

She was the first to spot the syringe. Not as she said so - it's just that her eyes wandered over the scene, an' then they locked on one place and froze. Her face had this stunned expression that made everyone who saw her to turn to see what she was lookin' at. And then, of course, they noticed it. On the floor beneath the front seat. A used hypodermic, plunger down and needle bare, with some brownish residue inside. We didn't actually see the residue then, it bein' night an' all, but the paramedics found it later on.

The needle was enough. You know what everyone thought, Gran. What does anyone ever think in these cases? Overdose. One of the most shameful ways to die. I could see people shaking their heads. Most folk walked away, going back to their dinners or their cars. Case closed. I wouldn't even be surprised if some tightwads sped off without paying their bills.

Kenya arrived in her police cruiser with an ambulance in tow, about three minutes after the first call was made. While the paramedics spoke to Sam and started workin' on Lafayette, Kenya asked who'd been first on the scene. I 'fessed up. She asked a few questions about what had happened. I told her about seeing Lafayette's feet, running back for help, Sam's CPR and the syringe. It's the last that drew her attention.

"Do you know Lafayette to have had a history of substance abuse?" she asked. If he were anything like his version in my world, the true answer was 'Heck, yeah!'. I decided that wouldn't be the best thing to say to a cop, though. Not even Kenya.

"Well.. maybe a bit of pot now and then? I don't really know," I lied. Or not. If you take into account that I was in a different reality, it really was the truth. For all I knew, that world's version could have been a junkie to the max (he wasn't), or an angel who never touched anything stronger than caffeine (he wasn't that, either).

"Looks like an OD to me," said Kenya, putting away the pad of paper she'd been taking notes on. "Real shame." She started to walk toward the restaurant, then though of something and turned to face me. "Stick around in Bon Temps tonight, Stackhouse. Just in case something new turns up and I have more questions."

"I'll... be at my Gran's house?" I hoped you - that world's you - had the same house. It looked to be so, 'cause Kenya nodded and went into Merlotte's. A few minutes later she came out with a very drunk Andy Bellefleur in tow. After putting him in the back of the cruiser, she drove off.

Meanwhile, the paramedics finished hookin' up Lafayette to an IV an' a bunch of machines I didn't recognize. They were good at their job, an' it didn't take them too long to put him in the ambulance and head to the hosptial.

You know me, Gran. I wasn't going to let a friend - even another world's version of a friend - spend time in hospital alone. Not even the chance to see you alive again would stop me. I had my car keys ready and was about to follow the ambulance when Tara grabbed my arm.

"Sookie," she said, "I'll look after Lafayette tonight. Just me."

I opened my mouth to say something, but she shook her head slowly while keeping her eyes on me. Without meaning to, I picked up some strong stray thoughs. They made it very clear it wasn't open to discussion, so I closed my mouth and nodded.

"I'll just... go to Gran's house, then," I said.

"You do that," said Tara, and she walked to Sam and started talking to him, probably about takin' the rest of the evenin' off. I think it must've been an easy argument, since Merlotte's was down a cook.

When I got in the Corvette, I couldn't believe it was mine. I felt like a carjacker - a lucky one. Still, the keys fit, and Sam did say the car was mine. It took me a while, but eventually I drove up to your house. There were two things I noticed right away: the gravel on the driveway was much nicer than I was used to, and Pam's car was parked there.

I parked the car and walked up to the house. Pam was seated on the doorstep. Her legs were crossed, her arms were folded, and she had an envelope in her right hand.

"Pam!," I said, "You must be freezin' out here at this time of night. Why didn't you wait indoors?"

"I wasn't invited in."

There was an answer I wasn't expecting. It looked like my wishes had exceptions.

"Wait," I said, "You're still a vampire?"

Pam raised an eyebrow while keeping the rest of her face perfectly still.

"Still?" she asked. When I didn't say anythin', she continued. "No, I'm just polite." After everything that had happened in my life, I'd forgotten that entering a house uninvited wasn't just forbidden to vampires, it was also rude. "You DO realize those books you read are fiction." It wasn't a question. I guess vampires really were gone from the face of the earth, at least as far as Pam was concerned.

"So... what brings you to Bon Temps?" This Pam had the same fashion sense as the one I knew, so I guessed she had the same address.

Pam stood up, dusted herself off and handed me the envelope.

"This is the mortgage cheque you mailed," she said. "Eric will only accept it delivered in person. With your teeth." I wasn't sure I'd heard that last part right.

"With my TEETH?" I asked.

"Preferably on hands and knees, but I told Eric you would never accept that clause."

"You mean you actually expect me to hand Eric a cheque with my teeth?"

"You should brush and floss before doing so. A stain or particle on the cheque would be unfortunate."

"Tell Eric I'll see him tomorrow morning. He has one heckuvan explanation to give me."

"Good. He will be at Fantasia."

"Don't you mean FANGtasia?"

She did the eyebrow thing again. It's kinda creepy.

"No. Why would I?" she asked, then without another word got into her car and drove away, leaving me with the cheque. I opened the envelope it was in to examine it. It was in my handwriting, and made out to Eric Northman. It was for a good chunk of money, and had my signature on it. It looked like Eric really did own my mortgage.

I put the cheque in the Corvette's glove compartment. I decided I could deal with it after I'd seen you.

Once I'd prettied myself up as much as I could in the dark and with nothing but my hands, I walked up to the door and rang the doorbell.

I heard steps, the turning of a lock tumbler, and then you were there at the open door. Alive.

"Why, Sookie!" you said, "It's good to see you! I thought it'd be that shameless woman again. Is she still on the doorstep?"

I told you that she was gone.

"Good," you said, "Now why on earth are you wearing your old waitress uniform? Was there a costume party?"

"It's.. a story for another time, Gran. Can I come in?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" you said. "Make yourself at home. This really is your home, you know, whenever you want it."

"Does that mean I can spend the night tonight?" I asked, while walking into the parlour.

"Of course," you said.

You know what, Gran? It's weird sayin' 'you did this' and 'you did that' when it wasn't really you; it was the alive you. I'll call that world's Gran, 'Gran', and only say 'you' when I'm talkin' to the you that's buried right under this here earth.

After a brief stop in the kitchen to make hot chocolate, she an' I chit-chatted on the couch. I told her that Lafayette was in hospital, an' they thought it was a drug overdose. That didn't get much of a reply. She just shook her head and said it was a real shame, that lovely young gentleman.

Then I mentioned that I'd seen Bill Compton at Merlotte's... THAT perked her right up, an' she asked for all the details.

I told her what I'd seen an' heard.

"Oh," she said, "everyone knows Lorena's wrong for him. Everyone but him. Won't think of leavin' her. Keeps saying he owes her, for making him what he is." She can't have made him a vampire, 'cause he was eatin', so I wondered..

"What would that be?" I asked.

"Why, one of the best lounge acts in the Shreveport casino district. You know that, dear. People come from all over to hear him and that wonderful piano of his. It's such a treat that we get to hear it for free."

"We do?" Gran had a grin a mile wide. I was half worried her head would split open.

"Of course! When we visit! What's wrong with you today? In fact, I was about to go over to see him. I'm glad I didn't go earlier, if he was at Merlotte's."

"You're going to see him? At this time of night?"

"Now you're just teasin' me. You know the poor man has his day and night mixed up, what with all his acts bein' in the evenin'. He sleeps during the day, dear. Ain't no way to catch him but after sundown. Like now. Be a dear and help me with the cake, will you?"

"The cake's for him?" I asked. I'd noticed it in the kitchen. It was a monstrous double decker chocolate cake with fudge frosting. I'd honestly thought Gran had made it on a lark, or maybe for me, but for Bill?

"Who else would it be for?"

I gave up and did as I was asked. Cake in hand, Gran an' I started on our way to Bill's house.

END CHAPTER 3


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